Like Water
by Lone.L
Summary: Oneshot. The last throes of a gloomy day embrace him as he searches for meaning, trying, always trying, to remember that surely, as always, things will be better tomorrow, even as tears flow like water amidst the rain. NaruSaku onesided.


This takes place sometime between Naruto's return and the Gaara's Kidnapping events. More in the **A/N**.

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**Like Water**

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In the silence, the splatters of drops falling at slow increments from the rusted faucet rings as loudly as any crash, each perfect, gleaming bead of water completely destroyed as it bursts against the sink basin. 

Or are those tears?

The old door's creak as it shuts, once music to his ears, does nothing but annoy him these days, eliciting a cringe now as it moves by his command to isolate him from his apartment. He steps indifferently into the scenery of a gloomy day, his vibrant orange jumpsuit considerably dulled by dark clouds overhead and a lack of activity all around. There's no good reason, after all, for most people to be outside just before rain comes. But to him, what is reason? His eyes rest on a point somewhere ahead, coercing his legs to move as he sighs. Familiar faces pass him on either side as he shuffles to the pavement's edge, but all they really are are doorways—everyone is comfortably inside. He buries his hands in his pockets as he moves, but does not slouch. That has never been a part of who he is.

He can still remember all those days filled with bad luck, hopeless wishes, as if he was just hoping against hope, and thoughts wasted on deaf ears. Moreover, he remembers with fresh pain and unnatural detail those stinging rejections and his pleas, and the times when, alone and lost, he would console himself with his single beacon of optimism, these simple words, so fervently whispered that his dedication to them and their truthfulness was clear: _Things will be better tomorrow._

_Keep your head up._

His thoughts wander like his feet, towards fresh grass and the promise of peaceful, empty training grounds. A nice place to think, quiet...like the apartment, but without the lingering stigma. His thoughts turn to her as the first drops of rain begin to fall.

Or are those tears?

Tears from the sky, at the very least, blanket the land bit by bit, the beginnings of a downpour bouncing off blades of grass and matting his blonde hair to his head. He carefully wades through the pasture-sized field despite few obstacles, every now and then sidestepping a tree, slow but tireless legs drawing him towards the forest while his thoughts draw him to her. Were the day's usual happenings a boring, melancholy shade, she would be the warm light that shone through it. He thinks back to the time they were christened teammates with a bittersweet mix of fondness and regret. He had every right to be excited—the girl he perceived to be of his dreams and his biggest rival in a three-man cell with him. Two and a half years away with his master gave him a good amount of time to think in between training, and now, his matured mind conjures up a frown and it translates onto his older face. All she could ever think about was the third, the prodigy, the ladies' man. Now the third is a traitor and the two left behind are considerably matured...and not much has changed.

His days are spent reflecting and training to be stronger—and hers, constantly asking him, constantly worrying, thinking of when, how, their teammate will return. She is considerably nicer now, pays slightly more attention to him...but just a natural repercussion of his friend's absence, he's sure. Does she really care, any more now than she did? Days of his going out of his way to gain her attention, her favor, and heartless rejection, swim by his mind's eye as faint memories. It is a trend that has continued even now, though her denials have become entirely clueless rather than heartless. She just doesn't notice his affections for her, too caught up in her old obsession to care.

Countless days spent eventually excusing himself, hurt and defeated, longing and lost, whispering those words that were his beacon of hope, but with less enthusiasm as a lack of change wore on his heart. _Things will be better tomorrow._

_Keep your head up. _

The grass rustles under his feet, with the steadily building breeze, guiding him on his path to the woods. The green foliage, though dim, waves gently as though to welcome him in, anticipating the perfect union of a lonely soul and a peaceful, voiceless place of rest amongst the frequent and hard drops of rain. At long last he saunters into the branches and continues moving forward, twigs cracking under his feet. He knows his destination too well to slow down for a second, even as the downpour continues in earnest and his garb is soaked.

To be lonely and to be alone are two completely different things. Surrounded by friends who finally, for the most part, appreciate him, he has not been alone in a long time. About four years, he muses. Unnoticed by the one person he wishes upon shooting stars would devote some time to him, he feels _very _lonely. It's unfair. Fairness...he chuckles, as if that has ever been something he was blessed with receiving. If only she saw...

The perfect rain is a beautiful thing, a place where tears flowing like water doesn't matter anymore, a time when nothing can be bothered enough to disturb him, a feeling that soothes and sharpens at the same time, bringing him respite but also reflection. His boots push leaves underneath as he finally comes to the spot he has been heading for, and he greets the fresh air of the small clearing in the forest with a deep breath. Stepping out into the rain, already without a single dry spot on his body, he lets his eyes fall on his favorite tree rather than the sky, and slowly stumbles to it. Even now, he can't quite grasp or explain the mixture of calm peace and ravaging sadness he feels, only the distant tingle and soft _thump_ as he falls back against the trees trunk and slides to the ground, resting comfortably on the clearing's edge. His head tilts just enough to spot a small pink flower swaying with the wind, a small bit of color in the bland surrounding area, narrowly dodging raindrops, and again, he thinks of her.

He chuckles, thinking of how even now he is misunderstood and, yes, not alone, but not given nearly enough credit either. How great would it be to be like his lost teammate? Maybe that's why they made such good friends and rivals. His heart constantly aches with the desire to bring him back so that things are the same as they used to be. He misses him more than she does, after all.

But the ache is not as strong as with the desire to just once have her really, truly, notice him, not for his antics, but see him in a new light and finally understand.

The rain is overwhelming now, but he hardly blinks as the streams of droplets run down his pensive but mostly non-expressive face.

Or are those tears?

Tears, yes, tears well up in his eyes as he finally turns his gaze up to the sky, a sad smile softly crossing his face.

_Keep your head up._

_Maybe things will be better tomorrow._

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**A/N:** Well, I'm back after a long hiatus due to a number of reasons, but I'm pretty sure anyone who follows or followed the Fullmetal Alchemist fandom knows me, and maybe some Kenshin/Champloo readers as well. Then there's the fact that I'm probably still on author alert for some people, so that'll draw some hits...but that's not what I wanted to talk about. I know I seem like a newcomer in this arena, but I own all 27 currently-NA-released Naruto manga volumes and I avidly keep up with Shippuuden, so I know what I'm doing. This is a side of Naruto hardly shown but that all fans of the series know exists, especially as he gets older. 

Just so you know, I've been inspired to write recently and I jot thoughts down when I'm at school or on the move, and they'll eventually turn into stories here. I'm mostly a short-story guy, because that's where I can pack a lot of power and convey a lot of meaning, but I will start a multichapter from time to time. As for this story, obviously the girl is Sakura. She just amazed me and pissed me off with her behavior towards Naruto in Shippuuden episodes 5-13 or something similar, and I cry for Naruto because Kishimoto and the show's creators both are so cruel to him. So needless to say I am a NaruSaku fan, but if you've read my FMA works, you **know** I am never dedicated to any one pairing.

Now that the rambling's over, I want to ask for everyone's support and a few reviews, important because this is my first story in this fandom and knowing how it's received will be major, major. Read, review, I hope you enjoy, and I'm out.

**LL**


End file.
